


a real artsy title

by ObscureReference



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen, Vague Apocalyptic AU, very vague
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-29 19:19:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5139551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObscureReference/pseuds/ObscureReference
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They go to an art museum because there's nowhere else to go and Nursey, for all that he loves reading word art, likes looking at art-art sometimes too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a real artsy title

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't ask me what kind of AU this is because I don't know. I've had vague-apocalyptic AU on the brain for a few days now and today I went to a museum. That's all I can say. Please enjoy this nonsense I wrote and take it at face value. 
> 
> Title taken from a tumblr post i saw that made the pun

They go to an art museum because there's nowhere else to go and Nursey, for all that he loves reading word art, likes looking at art-art sometimes too.

Chowder doesn't really mind. It's been a long time since he's gone to a public place with the explicit purpose of taking his time and learning things without having to worry about how useful those things are. He doesn't think he'll be shoving any of the paintings in his backpack to take to the Haus like he would for other supplies either, unless maybe they find something Lardo might like.

"Do you think we should grab something for Lardo?" Chowder asks as they tiptoe their way through the broken glass of the front entrance. Dex shrugs, his own backpack bouncing with the motion of his shoulders, but Nursey shakes his head.

"No way," Nursey says. "This stuff is all going to stay right where we find it."

Dex snorts softly. "It's not like it'll get any less ruined here."

He says it mostly under his breath. Nursey pretends not to hear him. Chowder looks around.

The museum floors feel like they were designed to echo, every footstep or piece of debris they brush by another sound that reverberates through the empty hallways. He can tell so much noise sets Dex's nerves on edge, and Chowder has to admit that it's not exactly great if they don't want to draw any attention to themselves. But he also thinks this is the way museums are supposed to be— wide open rooms and marble floors, made so the people can take up all that extra space with their thoughts and imagination and their interpretation of the art. So everybody can hear every little breath someone else takes and it adds to the experience. And it's not like they wouldn't be able to hear anyone else moving around either, so they haven't lost that advantage. Chowder isn't worried.

They pass by the deserted front desk and the overturned brochure tables without stopping. Chowder sidesteps a pile of shattered stained glass and quickens his pace to catch up to the others.

Nursey doesn't stop moving until they've passed by the third room decorated wall to wall with paintings and Chowder can tell Dex is getting annoyed. But then they finally do stop, not in a room filled with canvases but with sculptures. It reminds Chowder of the kinds of Greek statues he used to look at pictures of in school. But then again he doesn't really know anything about art.

"So what's it mean?" Dex asks eventually, after they've all spent a few minutes standing in a row and staring at the same headless statue without speaking. He shifts on the balls of his feet and looks around, not settling on any particular work of art until he gets to Nursey's face.

Nursey raises an eyebrow at him, half grinning. "What do _you_ think it means?"

"How am I supposed to know? You're the poetry guy."

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Poindexter."

"If that's your crappy way of avoiding the question, I'm not impressed."

Their voices carry and Chowder knows that if anybody else were in the building they would have come running by now, so he doesn't feel bad when he leaves Nursey and Dex to their chirping and wanders in to the next room.

Chowder doesn't know anything about art, but even he can admit the statue of the bull is pretty impressive.

It's less like a statue and more like a monolith, truth be told. The bull towers over everything else in the room, Chowder included. He thinks it would tower over Holster, the tallest of them, if he were here as well. He kind of has an urge to climb up on the bull's back, because nobody is here to stop him and it would probably be a really impressive viewpoint, but at the same time his fear of knocking the whole thing over keeps his feet planted firmly on the ground. He can't help the way his eyes trail over its legs looking for a foothold, even if he doesn't plan on actually scaling the beast.

Most of the bulls that Chowder has ever seen were always from a book or online or TV, back when they had those things. Apparently the artist didn't agree with that version of bulls because _this_ bull doesn't look anything like those bulls, which were always all dark features and sun beaten skin. He has no idea what material it's made of, but he doesn't think anybody could paint that exact shade of blue on any old piece of rock or replicate with oils the way it shines in the sunlight. It must have been made with some kind of gem, he thought. And it really is a gem.

Something tickles in the back of his mind. Something from high school about Greece and bulls and the sea. He tucks it away for later.

When people go to museums or art shows, they always look at pieces for a very long time before moving on to the next one. Chowder doesn't know how long he's supposed to look, but he stands there for another thirty seconds after he has actually finished, just in case. Then he nods to himself with a small hum (because that's what people do at museums) and turns to look the rest of the room. He can still hear Nursey and Dex arguing in his periphery.

The walls are lined with other statues and pieces of pottery at varying heights, none so impressive as the room's centerpiece. Chowder strolls over to one of the vases off to the side because it looks like one of those pottery pieces that has a story drawn on it and he thinks he might get more out of that than anything else here.

He doesn't mean to yelp or smack the vase with his flailing arms, but he doesn't see the dark lump on the floor until it's already jumping up at him. That's what happens when you leave the doors open, he thinks as the raccoon bares its teeth. Animals wander in.

He hops back a few steps and the raccoon swerves around him with a hiss, sprinting through another doorway as fast as its stubby legs can carry it, disappearing around the corner. The vase shatters on the marble with a resounding crash and Chowder immediately feels guilty, even though technically half the stuff here is already broken. But he can't help feeling bad. That vase in particular wasn't broken until he came in.

The noise brings Dex and Nursey sprinting in, faces drawn tight, but when they see it's just Chowder pushing some of the vase shards off to the side with his shoe so no one will cut themselves, they sag against the doorway.

"Give a guy a little warning before you go around smashing stuff, C," Nursey says, wandering over and throwing an arm around Chowder's shoulders. He pulls Chowder tight against his chest for a moment, all relaxed and casual, and for the brief moment they're flush against each other Chowder thinks Nursey's heart might fly out of his chest, it's beating so fast. He ducks his head sheepishly.

"Seriously," Dex adds, bumping Chowder's shoulder with his own. He wonders how tense Dex's muscles would be if Chowder touched his neck. He knows what they thought when they heard him shout.

"I'm sorry!" He says instead, and he means it. "A raccoon jumped out at me and I panicked."

"A raccoon?" Dex asks.

Nursey takes an exaggerated look around the room.

"I don't see any raccoon," he says. He smiles at Chowder, and Chowder is pretty sure he's teasing him, lightening the mood, but he also doesn't think they believe him about the raccoon.

"I'm serious!" Chowder points at the doorway the raccoon ran through. "It ran away after it tried to bite me. What if it has rabies or something?"

"I'm sure we can take some two pound vermin," Dex assures him.

It's probably true. They've fought worse. Chowder still feels bad about breaking the vase.

Nursey takes about another ten minutes to admire the sapphire bull in the middle of the room. Chowder and Dex wander from piece to piece, making as much sense of the mixed colors and unusual shapes as they can before Nursey finally starts to move on. They follow.

Nothing else unexpected jumps out at them that day and even when Nursey and Dex start to argue about this or that piece, their arguments die down within moments and Chowder doesn't go off on his own again. They end up making jokes about every other painting they find, and when Chowder's feet start getting sore, Dex lets him lay his head in his lap while they watch Nursey circle a few of the rooms and make vague comments that could be applied to any painting ever. They waste about two hours that way and it's some of the best hours Chowder has had in a long time.

When they run out of paintings to make fun of or pretend they know something about, he almost doesn't want to leave. Outside the sky is darker and there are strange stains and noises in the streets. The farther they go in to the museum, the more untouched it looks. Here, Chowder can almost forget. He wonders if that's why Nursey wanted to come in the first place or why Dex didn't fight it as much as he could have.

Still, when Dex tugs at his sleeve and Nursey jerks his head toward the door, he doesn't protest.

In the end, they don't steal any of the art and bring it back for Lardo, both because stealing is wrong and they don't think they'd be able to find something Lardo would actually like anyway. They could  always come back and grab something for Christmas or her birthday. It would be too much effort to just grab one of the portraits at random and lug it back to the Haus anyway.

The sun is lazily dropping in the sky when they leave the museum and Dex, with a lethargic scratch of his neck, wonders out loud if they have enough time to maybe scavenge something from one of the nearby apartments before they need to be back. Nursey tilts his head, considering, but then he says no when Chowder points out it's a long trek back to university property. It's not good to be out after dark.

The museum was pretty cool, but Chowder doesn't have anything to add to the pile of neat stuff he has stashed away in the corner of the living room when they make it back; no books or magazines or knives shaped like shark fins. So he wanders up to the reading room instead, climbing through the window with practiced ease to watch the sun set.

It's only a few minutes before Nursey and Dex crawl out as well, sitting on either side of Chowder and boxing him in. Even the giant hole in the lacrosse house's roof across the street doesn't take away the beauty of the sunset. Chowder wonders if anything could.

"We're gonna go back some time, right?" He asks when the sun is nearly gone and it's the dark void of space that takes up most of the horizon. "To the museum?"

"Totally," Nursey promises. He ruffles Chowder's hair with one hand and lets it linger on Chowder's neck when he's done. "Whenever you want, man."

"Just not too soon," Dex adds. His knee knocks in to Chowders. "I don't know how much pretentious hipster junk I can take before it's too much."

"It's not hipster if it's in a museum for the world to see."

"Says the hipster."

Chowder giggles. In the front yard, Ransom and Holster are taking turns digging with the shovel. He's pretty sure they're arguing about how well tomatoes grow this time of year and how likely it would be to maybe find a chicken that's escaped some farmer's pen. Ransom says not likely; Holster wants to keep the possibility open.

It's times like these he can almost forget. As long as they all stick together, he's pretty sure they're going to be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is http://someobscurereference.tumblr.com/ Feel free to hit me up there.


End file.
